Page 81 of Deviant Need

I work him harder, hollowing my cheeks and sucking. His hips buck involuntarily before he catches himself, and a quiet curse slips out under his breath. I can feel him thickening on my tongue, taste the precum leaking steadily now.

The worker keeps talking about inventory or shipments or something, completely oblivious, and I use the moment to push him closer to the edge. I suck harder, swallowing around him, watching him fight to stay still and keep his expression neutral. Sweat beads at his temple, and his thighs are shaking against my shoulders.

His breathing turns ragged despite his attempts to control it, and I feel the exact moment he gives up fighting. His cock swells thicker on my tongue, and he makes a strangled sound he tries to cover with a cough.

“Thanks,” he grits out to the worker, his voice strained, and the second the guy turns away, Mikhail breaks.

He curses under his breath and shoves his cock so far into my throat I can’t breathe. He holds me there and comes hard, cum flooding my mouth in thick waves while his whole body goes rigid. I swallow desperately around him, trying to take it all while black spots dance across my vision from lack of air.

My own orgasm hits without warning, and I come, spilling over my hand and onto the floor beneath the booth while he’s still emptying himself down my throat.

He finally pulls out, and I gasp desperately, sucking in air while my throat burns. Cum and spit connect my lips to his cock in messy strings before breaking. I’m shaking, dizzy from lack of oxygen and the rush of getting away with it.

He looks down at me with wild eyes, his chest heaving. “My little psycho,” he says, then hauls me up by my arm, thumb swiping across my bottom lip to catch the mess there. His gaze drops to my mouth and darkens. “You turn me on so fucking much.”

“You love it,” I say, biting my lip.

“I do,” he says tiredly. “She keeps asking about those papers you’re supposed to have. Can you please go deal with it before she has an aneurysm?”

I roll my eyes. “Da, I’ll go fix it.”

“We have lunch tomorrow with our parents,” he says after a beat. “We’ll sneak into that office and get you some answers, yeah?”

Wiping my mouth to get rid of the last bit of cum, I sigh. “I forgot about that.”

Right. The plan. Back to reality.

Chapter 18

Daniil

“Do you remember our plan?” Mikhail asks while staring out the front window. I bite my lip and look at the house where we grew up after moving from Russia. I’ve got so many memories tied to this place. Us sneaking onto the roof to get high and laugh about stupid things as teenagers, racing into the woods to our tree when we were little kids, escaping from everyone else.

Plenty of bad memories too.

Our family looks normal from the outside because we have to maintain that image. You don’t run what we run by looking like a mess. But inside these walls it’s a disaster. Growing up here sucked most of the time, everyone fighting and yelling, constantly at each other’s throats over everything and nothing.

Nothing’s really different from when we were kids. Nobody outside knows how dysfunctional we actually are, how close we come to killing each other at every family dinner.

We worked out a plan for today. We’ll show up for lunch acting like dutiful sons, then Mikhail will keep them distracted downstairs while I slip away. I’ll head upstairs to Father’s office after disabling all the cameras in that wing remotely from my phone.

“I remember,” I say, still staring at the house. “You sure you can keep them busy long enough?”

He glances at me. “I’ll start a fight with someone. That always works.”

“Just bring up the club or ask about business.”

“I know how to distract them.”

I finally look at him. “We need this to go smooth.”

He smirks. “I’m going to mention the vase.”

A breath slips out of me. The vase. Yeah, that’ll get them going. That thing’s been shattered for years, and it’s still causing arguments because nobody will admit they broke it. Mikhail didn’t do it, I’m certain of that much. But someone knows what happened that day, and they’re not talking.

“Good idea.”

We walk together into the house, side by side, and my lungs tighten with each step closer to the dining hall. The walls are covered in pictures of Avrorin heirs going back to when the family started.